


Sunset, Sunrise

by SaintPellegrino



Category: Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintPellegrino/pseuds/SaintPellegrino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hilda is at her wit’s end in Lorule’s restoration. Luckily, an old friend comes around to offer a solution. Post-ALBW</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset, Sunrise

It was the first night in some time the Princess of Lorule was excited to _not_ go to bed. The sun was fading into the gentle glow of sunset, and Princess Hilda finally managed to make it up to her study after an especially tense meeting with the carpenters and stonemasons that remained in the kingdom. They were supposed to rebuild the villages that managed to weather the kingdom’s decline and repair whatever roads were salvageable. _Supposed._  

The return of their Triforce wasn’t enough for some Loruleans. In fact, it wasn’t enough for most of her citizens. It’s been almost five years since the debacle with Yuga and Hyrule. While her kingdom was gaining strength, it wasn’t enough. Her people still needed roofs over their heads and direct routes across the kingdom; but they needed to buy bread, to buy protection from the highwaymen and monsters that thrived in the kingdom. And very little people had the means or Rupees to pay for anything anymore.

Princess Hilda had hopedthat the men and women she called together – “the finest in the kingdom,” _he_ said as his recommendation – were willing to help the Crown rebuild Lorule’s infrastructure now, and would be paid most handsomely at a later date. They were really her only hope if anything was going to be accomplished that would immediately impact people’s lives.

She obviously explained honest, selfless men and women like them could solve the circular issue that was at the center of Lorule’s current troubles. That part wasn’t hard at all. Of course, she bit back the biting, angry words at the tip of her tongue when they asked why she would even _dare_ to ask them to work for free. She tried to not let her temper show when they accused her of not knowing _anything_ about what they’ve gone through, from her grandfather’s reign down to her own failings.

And, when they quickly got up and left when they realized Lorule’s Royal Treasury had little more than dust motes swirling in its empty vaults, she swallowed the lump in her throat and stalked down the hall before anyone in her household could see the furious, yet despairing, tears that welled up in her eyes.

The Princess closed (it was more of a slam but she wasn’t about to admit her temper got the better of her again) her study’s doors behind her and attempted to calm her heaving chest, as those few moments were the only time she would allow herself to be selfish, to feel _anything_ at all. She was good at that. Each tragedy in her life was marked less on what actually happened than how she _reacted_ to it. How she acted when her mother was wasting away from disease in front of her young eyes. How she portrayed herself at her father’s funeral – the second parent she had to bury within weeks. How Hilda reacted when stones and rotten food and gods knew what else was thrown at her when she ventured outside the Castle, if only for a few hours. Just to see if her people were _living_ , not just surviving. 

She couldn’t imagine anyone better than herself at playing pretend (maybe one person, since he one-upped her with his little charade in Hyrule).

After she managed to calm herself down, Hilda crossed the room and sat down in the creaky oaken chair. It was hard to know where to even begin, since paper covered almost every usable surface in the room. Still, she pulled the nearest one over – the consolidated profiles of potential Council members that she’s been putting off for months now.

Even though the stacks of paper seemed to never end, Princess Hilda couldn’t be happier to play a small role in the rebirth of Lorule. From the influx of correspondence from neighboring kingdoms (delighted to hear the news of Lorule’s Triforce returning to the land, and claiming they would have helped Lorule in its decades of decay “if you only asked”), the daily reports sent in by the surveyors she deployed throughout the kingdom to detail the changing conditions of the land, to the simple letters sent in by the commoners that were lucky enough to read and write, Hilda truly wouldn’t want to do anything else than spend sleepless nights making Lorule – _her_ Lorule – a better land.

For all, for all time.

She didn’t even bother to light a candle as her study grew dark. Wax wasn’t any less expensive than it was before the Triforce returned, and the ones that have returned to the Castle’s staff needed them more than she did. Besides, she was used to being in the dark. It always comforted her, shielded her, from the forces that were out of her control. She could always hide away when the chasms were widening, when the remaining Loruleans screamed for her head outside the Castle walls. She could simply… disappear. It was so easy to do.

And, though it took her quite some time to realize it, where there is darkness, there can always be light. It’s just a matter of finding it.

“Your grace? Princess?”

Hilda didn’t even realize she was staring at the raindrops trickling down the wide windows, her papers abandoned on the table, until a sharp rap on the desk jolted her out of her thoughts. “Gerda, how many times have I asked you… _Ravio_?”

That _stupid_ man with that _stupid_ smirk was standing on the other side of her desk, candelabra in hand. “How many times have I asked _you_ to not sit in the dark, Princess? You really can’t get anything done when you do. Bad for your eyes, too.”

“Thank your for your expert advice on my work habits, Sir Ravio. I’ll be sure to commend you for your help if I’m ever to get through all this work.” She couldn’t help but for her voice to drip with scorn after the day she had, even to the one person that could make her smile just with his presence. “Should I even ask how you managed to worm your way up here without being thrown out by the staff?”

He set the candelabra on her desk – without asking, Hilda noted. “I know this Castle as well as you do, your grace, so don’t doubt my abilities when it comes to checking up on you after your meetings like I don’t matter.” The candlelight cast flickering shadows in the room, showing Ravio’s grim features.

She stood up from her chair more quickly than she wanted to, the wooden legs screeching on the floor. “Have you nothing better to do than listen to selfish men and false rumors about your ruler? Do you not understand that I can only do so much for - ”

“Whoa there,” Ravio interrupted, hands in front of him in a pleading gesture to stop her railing. “I never even said anything about the meeting! I just wanted to see how you were after it. ”

Hilda opened and closed her mouth, but the biting words she was so used to throwing out at him didn’t come. She couldn’t find them. “Fine. I apologize.” She felt her body relax, her expression softening. “I don’t think you don’t matter,” she said quietly.

Ravio’s crooked smile appeared and he cocked his head to the side. “You… mean that? Seriously?”

“I did. Do. Truly.” Hilda absentmindedly rearranged the mess of papers on her desk, doing something to ignore the trembling of her hands and how her mind kept jumping back to the fact that Ravio looked halfway decent in his silly bunny robe (“it has magic in its fabric, I swear it!” He howled the first time she made a joke at its expense) and he might possibly have combed his hair for the first time in possibly _ages._ It didn’t even look that neat this morning when she saw him.

“Uhm, well… thanks, Princess.” Was that a hint of sincerity in his voice?

“Of course.”

Seconds passed. Then a few more.

“Sheerow didn’t come with you today?”

Ravio furrowed his brow, hastily coughing. “I-I asked him to wait outside. He wasn’t happy about it, but my buddy did it as a favor. I know you don’t like having him around when you’re trying to be all Princess-y.”

Hilda laughed, a rare occurrence. “I like him, I do! I simply don’t like it when he flies around my study, making messes of my papers and ruining priceless heirlooms.”

Ravio’s grin showed his slightly-wider front teeth (she thought he was weird-looking because of them, but now Hilda couldn’t imagine him without those teeth). “I’ll let him know that. That sounds kinda like what I end up doing when I stop by too.”

The edge of Hilda’s lips curled into a half-smile, the closest she would ever come to one. “Both of you are a welcome distraction.”

She could see the red on his cheeks before Ravio ducked his head, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

The clock’s pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth.

“You look nice today,” he mumbled, cutting – no, destroying the slightly awkward silence.

A soft exasperated sigh was out before she could even contain it. “I’m wearing the same thing when you saw me twelve hours ago, Sir Ravio.”

His hand went to the back of his head to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck; a nervous habit Hilda noticed he had when they were children. “But you always look beautiful, your Highness.”

She looked away, immediately conscious of the faded colors of Lorule’s crest on her dress, her well-worn gloves, and the diadem that hasn’t been polished in months. Looking anywhere but at him. “You are much too kind.”

Her eyes snapped up, however. “Did you ever have a reason from interrupting my solitude, Sir Ravio?”

He looked momentarily hurt by the severe tone of her words, but eased into his carefree smile once again. “I actually wanted to see how the meeting with the builders went. I thought I saw a few of them a while ago, and - ”

“If you saw them, your assumption on the outcome of our meeting is correct.” Hilda turned to the side, looking out the window again. The rain was coming down harder, and she could barely make out her reflection in the moon-lit panes. “Do you know what creates an effective state, Sir Ravio?”

“Even though I got you to skip a lot of your lessons a while ago, Princess, I’ll never be able to answer that type of stuff. You gotta go easy on me.” Hilda saw him in the window reflection draw a leg up on the wood, half sitting on her desk.

“A state’s effectiveness is determined by the functions it provides for its people. Those functions are various goods and services given to the people.” She spoke in a monotone, as if she were ten winters old again, performing recitations for her tutor. A simpler time. Her fingers traced the filigree of the curtains. “However, those functions can only be performed if the state has the money needed for those that. So, if a state cannot provide for its people-”

“It fails,” Ravio gently finished for her.

Hilda nodded, looking over her shoulder at him. “I did what you said. I told the builders the Treasury was empty. I asked them to do the work for free.”

“And they refused.”

Her whisper was almost inaudible as she closed her eyes to say the painful “ _yes._ ”

She could almost hear Ravio’s mind racing as he was talking to himself. “Damn it, damn it, _damn it._ We could always chase after them and say they were just pulling their leg… but that might make it work. We could try to use the good ol’ threatening those guys, but that could also make you look pretty violent when you shouldn’t go for that look right now-”

“Sir Ravio, it will be fine.” Hilda crossed her arms in front of her, still holding onto the curtain. “We’ll figure something out in the morning.”

She turned her head to look at him, surprised he wasn’t snapping back at her. “You should go home. It’s dangerous outside this late.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then lowered his head again, playing with the end of his striped scarf. “I know, and I will… but there’s another reason I stopped by.”

It wasn’t like Ravio to be so quiet about what was on his mind. “And what on earth would that be?”

“Well… you know how I sometimes ask the local folks what they’re thinking about how Lorule’s doing on the errands you send me out on? Like a popularity poll and stuff?”

Hilda nodded back at him. “Of course. How can we know what to improve upon if we don’t know what our people want?”

“Yeah yeah. All that.” Ravio hopped off her desk. “So I’ve been asking almost everyone I’ve met the past few days about what could really make Lorule feel like – you know, whole again. And there were a lot of different responses, like improved sanitation and more food handed out from the Castle. Stuff that’s hard to get done right now.”

The Princess of Lorule clasped her hands together. “Things we can try to provide for them, but won’t be able to for a while.” She didn’t mean to be quick, but the more time he spent in her office, the less she could concentrate, and the more she knew she would have to deal with the increasingly problematic issue of her attraction to Ravio.

Though she wouldn’t admit it was more than mere attraction at this point.

“Well, I didn’t notice it at first, but there was one thing that was pretty common. Your people…” Ravio crossed around the desk, stopping a few feet behind her. “They worry about you. They look to you. They want to see you happy.”

She wasn’t able to contain her scoff. “And how do they think they’ll make me happy? Magically making their lives better with a wave of my hand?”

Ravio was fumbling around in the pockets of his robes. “No no, not at all. Maybe by…” He stopped suddenly, running his fingers through his purple hair. “What does make you happy, Princess?" 

There were two raindrops Hilda was watching on the window. There was a larger drop racing a smaller one, each gaining more and more water as they slid down the window. “I don’t have the time to be selfish, Sir Ravio. You know that.”

“Just for a second you can. I won’t tell anyone.” He reached up to finger a strand of hair next to her shoulder. She hoped he didn’t hear how her breath quickened.

He tended to have that effect on her.

Hilda turned her head towards him. “Cross your heart?”

“Are we kids again, your grace?” With her nod, Ravio softly smiled and made an “x” on his left breast. “I promise.”

She sharply exhaled through her nose. "Just… don’t laugh, please?”

He leaned against the window, mere inches away from her. “How could I ever laugh at you?”

Again, Hilda was glad it was still so dark in her study so her blushing wouldn’t betray her.

“I-I want my people to be happy. I don’t want them to live in fear of what’s outside their doors or where their next meal is coming from.” She trained her eyes on the wax just about to drip off the candelabra on her papers.

She peeked out the corner of her eye at Ravio. No smirk, no mirth in his eyes was apparent. It was possibly the most serious she had ever seen him. “I figured as much. And there was something else a few, maybe a lot of people mentioned about you.”

_Oh gods no, no, anything but-_

“They want to see you married, Princess. Before your coronation.”

Hilda blinked. Twice. And attempted to find words that didn’t come as a slap to the face to him.

But she couldn’t. “Of course they do. Of course they think I can’t handle everything that’s happening in Lorule. Of course they expect me to cede everything my ancestors gave to me to some idiotic man from another country that would have to be insane to want to marry for _this_ Crown.” She slipped away from the window, hugging herself and going back to her desk. “How could I expect any less from _them_ ,” Hilda said, knocking a sheaf of papers off her desk in a vain attempt to control her anger. The candelabra tipped to one side, but righted itself just before it ruined her papers.

Her rage was more fueled by disappointment in herself. For not being strong enough. For failing to be everything her people ever needed. 

She never thought she could ever feel as weak as she did now. Mere months from her twenty-first nameday and her coronation, and yet she was nothing to remark upon still. 

How pathetic.

A hand covered her own, lacing fingers between hers to unclench the fist it made involuntarily during her outburst. “I know you don’t like it, Princess, but you gotta think this through-”

“I don’t _have_ the time to think this through. Do people honestly expect me to entertain a legion of suitors in the Castle while they starve?” Hilda kept her eyes on a nick in her desk to keep the frustrated tears from spilling over. “Do they think bringing in a pretty face will somehow save our kingdom from failure, Sir Ravio?”

She dreaded the day she would have to think about this. That she would have to divvy her time between her right-hand man and her nameless, faceless, to-be husband. Choosing between her kingdom and her marriage. Making the man she cared most about in this world a second priority all too soon.

His hands moved to her upper arms, jerking her around to face him. “Will you _listen_ to me for _once_ ,” he hissed between his teeth, “before you jeopardize your people again?”

Hilda looked at his face, inches away from her own. _Again_ is what truly got her. That there’s always the chance she’ll get carried away _again_ , she’ll almost drag her kingdom and everything around it to ruin _again_. That she will fail everyone _again_.

And this time, it didn’t sound like Ravio would be there to help her pick up the pieces. Hilda had no idea what she would cause without him by her side.

She slowly nodded her head, and Ravio awkwardly dropped his hands from her before shoving them back into his pockets. Hilda immediately wanted to feel his touch again, wanting to know what sort of strength that pink robe hid, what his slightly parted lips tasted like, if he smelled like musty books and clothes everywhere else on his body.

Hilda thought, for a fleeting moment, that she had fallen for the boy – no, man – right in front of her.

It was dismissed just as quickly, seeing him beginning to scold her like the child she was again. 

“I know,” he started and scratched the back of his head “you don’t hold a lot of affection for me, Princess. You probably don’t even think of me besides some idiotic vassal, I know. But I’ve always been at your side for what – four years? Since the Triforce came back.” 

“Five,” Hilda corrected with the barest amount of condescension that was appropriate for right now.

“Yep, five years now. And you know I racked up a lot of Rupees from Link with the whole little Hyrule thing, yeah? But they’re really just sitting around now, and I don’t need to buy anything or use them now.” Ravio shook his head. “And I thought, you know… I could make you an offer you can’t refuse.” he finished with a slight smile.

Hilda’s mind was reeling. _An offer I can’t refuse…_ Suddenly, in the most un-royal way she’d ever spoken, she blurted out “Did you… did you just ask me to _marry_ you?”

Ravio opened and closed his mouth, cringing as if expecting a typical smack from her. “I was trying to get to that. I have more Rupees than I know what to do with, and you – the state – needs the money for Lorule.” He put his hands up in front of him defensively. “It would be a marriage of convenience. I wouldn’t butt in with politics or legislation or any of that stuff. I wouldn’t know where to even begin! You would still have your second-in-command, your grace.”

She couldn’t help but to laugh, covering her mouth with her fingertips. “You expect me to marry an upstart that will fund that last part of Lorule’s restoration?”

His face fell immediately to one of bewilderment and disappointment. “I know you think little of me, Princess. You only knighted me to make me feel like I actually did something against Yuga-”

“No, it wasn’t that at all-”

“And you find me annoying and cowardly-”

“Of course I don’t, you mean more than-”

“Will you _just_ let me _finish_ one _damn_ time?” Ravio’s voice echoed in the chamber, accompanied by a loud thunder from outside.

“No,” she started, reaching out to play with his scarf. “Because you’re wrong.”

“I think you won’t find-” his mouth gaped open, getting more confused by the second. “Wait, what did you say?” 

“I said you’re wrong. Because this wouldn’t be a marriage of convenience,” Hilda finished with a smile – the biggest one she thinks she’s ever had. 

Ravio paused, then hesitantly stepped closer tucking her hands into his own. “And why would that be, your grace?” His breath was tickling her nose now.

“Because, you see…” Hilda said as she nudged his nose. “I’m in love with my best friend.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he closed the remaining distance between them, kissing her gently, tentatively, as if it were a dream they didn’t want to be rudely awakened from.

It was as if her mind couldn’t compute what she was supposed to be doing at that moment – ruling a kingdom with one person to support you didn’t give you much time to explore the perilous actions of intimacy. Her hands went to his hair, wrapping it in her hands and tugging it back as Ravio brought his hands to her face, angling her to the side.

She barely savored the deepened kiss before Ravio suddenly broke away. “Wait. I got a little something for you,” he mumbled while digging into his pockets. “Where’s that little sucker…” Hilda leaned back, fighting to catch her breath. He _did_ taste a bit musty, but there were worse things he could taste like, she guessed. “Ah- _ha_!” With a flourish, he nudged a small box between their bodies. “I got it a few years ago, when I knew I was in love with you.” Ravio opened it to reveal a beautiful, yet simple diamond ring. “I didn’t want to spend a lot just in case you - we needed the money, but if you don’t-”

“I love it,” Hilda replied after a small gasp. She looked back up at him, brushing the floppy purple bangs to see his eyes. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Ravio only smiled as he slipped the ring onto her hand, tossing the box on her desk. “It was a plan years in the making, your grace. I had to.”

She blinked, the cogs turning in her head. “You couldn’t have possibly loved me for longer than I have loved you.”

“I doubt it.”

“I knew three years ago, when you said you didn’t blame me for my plan to steal Hyrule’s Triforce at the Yule Festival,” she said triumphantly.

“I fell in love with you the first day we met. In the garden.”

She buried herself in his chest, her words muffled by his robes. “How could you possibly have known then? We were merely kids.” 

“We weren’t normal kids then, Princess. You said so yourself.” Ravio wrapped his arms around her, stroking her deep purple hair. “How could I have not fallen in love with you when I busted you out of the dungeon after hearing your voice in your head for days on end?”

She teasingly placed a finger on his lips. “You’re going to have to call me Hilda for this to work out.”

He kissed her finger before gently pressing her against the desk. “Fine. Hilda it is… But can Sheerow stay with us?”

“I already told you I like him!”

“Great!” He looked like a fidgety child as he fumbled with the back of his hood. “You’re in the clear, pal. Come out, come out!”

Soon enough, the little white bird flitted out of Ravio’s hood and settled on Hilda’s shoulder, nuzzling her affectionately. “Whoa there buddy, you can’t be putting the moves on my girl like that! That’s not what best buddies do!”

“He can stay, I truly do like him.” Sheerow chirped in reply, fluttering off of her shoulder to fly around her study.

Hilda dragged her eyes away from the zooming white ball to look back at Ravio. “Of course he can’t use this as his playground when I’m doing work. Mustn’t let him get that impression.”

Ravio laughed before tracing a hand down her arm, making her shiver with delight that she would always have _this,_ the unspoken chemistry that was always bubbling to the surface, present in her life now. “He does like it in here. And so do I,” he whispered before kissing her cheek. “I might have to stay here until you’re old and grey and senile.” 

She placed her hands on his chest, fingering the material of his robes. “We have the rest of our lives to figure it out,” Hilda said, smiling as she met his lips again.

As the rain of Lorule finally faded away to the light of day, the Princess and her cowardly knight did exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - kudos and comments are always appreciated, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
